The Beginning
by sierendipity
Summary: Scorpius and Rose as their relationship changes and grows, caught in eight snap shots of their lives.
1. of the Story

First Year

He watched his parents, noticing how uneasy they were, noticing the anxiety that accompanied their every public venture in the wizarding world. He had learned to ignore the withering stares, snide remarks and side-long gazes. His parents had obviously not.

"All right, Scorpius, just as we told you."

He nodded at his mother, trying to look confident for her sake. Steeling himself, he gripped his cart and walked head long into the brick wall.

Letting out the breath he'd been holding, Scorpius looked around in awe at the giant steam engine before him. He couldn't stop staring at it even after Draco and Astoria had joined him. They made their way together along the platform.

"Draco, the Potters."

Both he and his father reacted immediately to her words, looking around anxiously. Draco nodded stiffly at the black haired, middle aged man that Scorpius had never known but that had been a familiar face since he could remember. So this was Harry Potter. The man was surrounded by gingers with only a few exceptions. He noted the bushy haired Granger woman and her Weasley husband, someone that had to be their son and –

Scorpius stopped. The girl with them was already staring at him. Their eyes met – silver on sky – piercing each other through the crowd. He couldn't look away, couldn't turn his head for the life of him.

"Scorpius."

Forcefully shaking his head, he glanced up.

"Yes, mother?"

"Your bags. I need them."

He nodded, handing them over. When he looked again, the Weasley girl had disappeared.

Scorpius made his way down the aisle of the train, blushing as people looked up at the sound of his jingling coin bag. He held onto it in an attempt to keep it quiet, looking from side to side for a slightly unoccupied compartment.

As he passed one fairly empty one, he was surprised when the two boys inside glared. One stood and moved over to pull the shutter down.

Smarting from the blow to his pride, Scorpius continued. He stopped, suddenly, seeing the Weasley girl and a black haired cousin of hers the only occupants of one compartment. They were staring at each other again, and when her hand twitched he thought that she might actually let him sit by them. Then her cousins pushed passed him, and he reluctantly moved on.

Two Ravenclaws finally took pity on him. By the end of the train ride, he could almost say that he had made some friends. Later that night, when he joined their house and the whole room fell silent, they were the only two who cheered. However, he was distracted, waiting for the name, "Weasley," and felt a small surge of regret as the hat cried, "Gryffindor!"


	2. of Respect

Second Year

Rose would be hard pressed to go a day without hearing the name Scorpius Malfoy. They were only second years, but already he had set himself apart. Whether it was a tittering girl gushing about how attractive he was or two teachers discussing his sharp wit, she had no doubt that Scorpius had left an impression.

Then again, so had she. Everyone knew of Rose Weasley – brilliant, slightly annoying, fiery but, most prevalently, the daughter of two war heroes and niece of Harry Potter himself. It should have bothered her that her family had become part of her identity, but, for the most part, it didn't. She was proud to be a part of that type of a heritage and thought that the rebellious teenager who just wanted to stand out was a bit clichéd. Merlin knew that she'd read enough books to know that.

She wondered if Scorpius was one of that type – doing what he did – trying out for the Ravenclaw Keeper, forcing himself to be the best in all of his classes – being sorted into Ravenclaw to begin with – in an effort to stand aside from the scar of his family name. Even if it wasn't his intention, he'd succeeded.

One day as she made her way to the Gryffindor common room, she heard voices nearby. Curious, she turned the corner, blanching at the scene before her. One of the first years newly sorted into her house – Barney Thomas, she recognized, was whimpering in a corner at the end of the hall. Two older Ravenclaws – fourth years at least, were standing in positions she could only describe as threatening, sneering at the boy between them and their previous victim.

Scorpius Malfoy had his wand raised, staring at his two house mates as though they were three feet shorter than they were.

"Why don't you head on back to the common room, Mclaggen? Davies?"

"Get out of the way, Malfoy."

"And let you have at my friend, here? Not likely."

"Aw, Scorpy Malfoy, son of a death eater, chumming up with ickle Gryffindor firsties. What would your father say?"

"My father would probably tell me to teach you the lesson your mothers obviously never did," he said through gritted teeth.

Rose stood and gaped, too stupefied at the boy facing off with his own house to stand up for a member of hers. She had every intention of stepping in should things get out of hand, but waited for a moment to see what would happen.

The two boys were moving forward, almost imperceptibly.

"You've got a big mouth for such a scrawny body," the bigger of the two smirked. Their wands were pointed right at Scorpius's head.

Rose did not know what had happened in the next instant, all three of them moving like lightning. They were quick. Scorpius was quicker. His wand slashed through the air as he muttered some unintelligible words. Suddenly, both boys were on their backs, unmoving.

"When you find some poor schmuck to let you out of that, you might want to run to the hospital wing and make sure you didn't bump your thick skulls too hard," Scorpius snapped. "Tell Pomfrey that I sent you."

He spun around, and she had just enough time to duck behind the wall before he saw her. She pressed her ear to the cool surface, listening to him address the first year.

"Do you know the way to your common room?"

"Yeah. Thanks Malfoy. I reckon you're a good sort."

She heard the soft chuckle and felt herself smile in response.

"You better after I just saved your arse. But I reckon you're a good sort as well."

A moment later, Barney skittered passed her, smiling and still sniffling a little. She listened in silence as Scorpius's footsteps disappeared down the corridor.

Rose went to bed that night fascinated as ever by the boy that was Scorpius Malfoy, worried for his safety, questioning his sanity. More than anything, Rose felt a deep rush of admiration for the boy that stood up to two fourth years and won.


	3. of Hatred

Third Year

"Potions with the Gryffindors?" Scorpius gaped at the schedule. "What happened to Potions with the Hufflepuffs?"

Jordan and Arthur, the fifth years that he had first met two years ago on the Hogwarts Express, peered over his shoulder.

"That's queer, mate."

"Have fun."

Scorpius let this sink in. He didn't think potions with Gryffindor would be too different – there were a few more students that still hated him from that house, but he had no doubt that he would hold his status as top in the class. Currently, he held it by such a landslide that the idea of any of those "brawn-before-brain" kids was laughable at best.

He took his seat next to another third year Ravenclaw, turning his attention immediately to the ancient Professor Slughorn.

"Welcome, third years," the professor greeted them warmly. "What a pleasure it is to see some of my best students finally in a class together."

Scorpius glanced up expectantly, but Slughorn only looked his way for a moment. He craned his neck to see who he had turned his attention to.

Rose Weasley.

He stared openly at her, forgetting conventions, before she looked at him, her eyes blazing. He turned away as though he'd been burned. It felt as though he had.

"Now, I wanted to start off the year a bit unconventionally," Slughorn was saying. Intent on avoiding any more distractions, Scorpius turned his focus to the professor.

"Werewolves. And all the common misconceptions. Life today can be infinitely less painful for such creatures, for one reason – "

Scorpius was already raising his hand.

"Miss Weasley? Why am I not surprised?"

Startled, Scorpius glanced behind him. Sure enough, it was her.

"Wolfsbane Potion, sir, allows the werewolves to transform quite painlessly at the full moon, calm for the span of the usual loss of logic and added ferocity. It's very tricky to brew though – it takes a skilled wizard and runs a steep price."

"The book couldn't have said it better!" the professor said jovially, "Ten points to Gryffindor!"

Rose beamed.

It wasn't the last time that her bloody arm shot up a fraction of a second before his.

_Famous werewolves?_

_ "_Remus Lupin, of the Order of the Phoenix, sir, and Fenrir Greyback of Voldemort's side, the latter whom transformed the former."

_Society's view on werewolves?_

"Has improved considerably, sir, since the end of the wizarding war in '98. There are still powerfully dark werewolves today, but the stigma surrounding the breed as a whole is slowly evaporating."

_Preferred living space?_

"It varies from person to person, sir."

And on and on.

When it came time to try their hand at the complex potion, Scorpius couldn't help but grin. This was his element. It always had been. However, as his potion failed to turn the mauve color that Weasley's did, then grew rather clumpy, he clenched his teeth. Rose, looking chipper as ever, added the last ingredient and set up her cauldron to finish stewing.

She walked over to Slughorn's desk, chatting amiably about Merlin knew what. Scorpius had never seen such a blatant brown noser …. Not since looking in the mirror that morning. As she passed his table on the way back to her seat, she glanced into his cauldron and smirked.

"Need some help?"

His jaw dropped, his eyes flashed, and his fists clenched as tight as his teeth.

"No, Weasley, I think you have enough to tend to between your ego and old Sluggy's."

He watched her expression grow fierce and taut. Her eyes sparked. It was almost enough to make him lean away, but his pride would never allow it. He could see a million words rushing through her head. Finally, she sneered, "Your sludge is on fire. Then again, looking at it, that was probably your intention."

Startled, he turned back to his cauldron. Sure enough, it was nearly engulfed in flames. Rose didn't stick around to see it end in ashes. He watched her flounce away like the princess she obviously thought she was. Corrosive anger pounded in his head.

He had underestimated Rose Weasley, true. But she had underestimated him. And he was determined that this would never happen again.

v


	4. of Pity

Fourth Year

"Rose, Transfiguration in twenty minutes."

Albus towered over the pile of flaming red curls.

"Wake up, Rose."

She jerked into an upright position, eyes wild and blurry.

"What? What is it?"

"Transfiguration. In … eighteen minutes, now."

She nodded, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Albus smirked, clapped her shoulder, and left the library. She glanced down at the roll of parchment she had fallen asleep on.

"Bleeding hypogriffs." Her unfinished essay for the very class she was almost late to seemed to laugh in her face. Dipping her quill in the ink (still open and half dry), she scribbled down whatever came to her mind about partial human transformations.

"…is not suggested for inexperienced wizards … no, that sounds daft – "

"Malfoy! You coming?"

Rose froze, mid-sentence, hearing the voice of the sixth year Ravenclaw chaser, Arthur Boot.

"Yeah, one minute, I'll be right there." Scorpius's words came from the book shelf next to her. Was Rose mistaken or did his voice sound strained?

"Ok. Meet you on the pitch."

Boot's footsteps faded.

Rose felt herself shrink as Scorpius came into view, anticipating a fight but unwilling to waste any of her already limited time on it.

She needn't have worried, however. He never even spared a glance in her direction. Unable to look away, she stared at his disheveled hair, drawn expression, tight eyes – could she be imagining the red in them? This was not the Scorpius she knew.

He was shoving something – a letter, by the looks of it – into his bag. However, in his haste, it didn't place, and when it hit a table and fluttered to the ground, Scorpius didn't even seem to notice. He just breezed from the room.

"Malfoy!" she cried, standing instinctively. She rushed to where the letter had fallen, throwing open the door and looking from side to side. But he was gone.

Re-entering the library, Rose stared at the folded parchment in her hand. It seemed to be burning a hole in her skull. She knew that she should not read it. But, like her Grandmum Weasley, she had an insatiable curiosity for things like this. What had made Scorpius so distraught?

She only fought it for a moment more before unfolding it eagerly. The first thing she noticed was the beautiful, pristine hand. There didn't seem to be a single letter out of place.

_Scorpius,_

_ Your mother and I were disappointed to hear of your inability to receive the top marks of your class. After all, if there was one positive thing about your sorting into Ravenclaw, it was that you were supposed to be an excellent student. You cannot afford mediocrity. A great deal about your future depends on whether or not you are able to set yourself apart in your studies while still in Hogwarts. Your name alone will get you nowhere._

_ Your mother wishes you a happy birthday. I hope that, as you are now fifteen, you will finally begin taking your studies seriously. Your O.W.L.'s are approaching faster than you might imagine, and it has become increasingly obvious that academic endeavors currently mean nothing to you. At this rate, you will not make prefect, let alone Head Boy. _

_ I was pleased to learn of your place as the keeper on the Ravenclaw team, but I hope that you do not let this go to your head and do not use it as any excuse to let your studies slide. There is no future for you in Quidditch, so focus on the things that will take you somewhere. _

_ Your Father,_

_ Draco Malfoy_

Rose was gaping by the time she had finished. What kind of celebratory letter was this? She scanned it over once more, biting her lip until it bled. It was his birthday. How miserable.

Like most people, Scorpius was more than she had originally thought. She felt an ache in her chest to think that he was the product of such an icy upbringing.

When, later that day, she found herself mere steps behind him, she slid the letter gingerly back into his bag. Hopefully he would never notice it missing. Then she sped on ahead of him, keeping her head tucked down.

Later that day, she didn't know what possessed her, but she scribbled, "Happy birthday!" on a napkin and surreptitiously flew it to his plate at dinner. She had bent her head back over her food by the time he looked up, but she flushed with pleasure as he gave a half smile before folding it carefully and sliding it into his pocket.


	5. of Change

Fifth Year

Scorpius made his way to patrols, readying himself to sign away another evening with perhaps the dullest Ravenclaw that ever went to Hogwarts, Evelyn Johansen. A decent looking bird, he'd lost any interest when, after he'd told her his name, she'd giggled and asked if it was the name of a lobster.

"Er … you mean a scorpion?"

"Oh yeah … that."

He was no less dismayed when he arrived and found an annoyed Rose Weasley waiting for him.

"Weasley. What are you doing here?"

"Me? I'm filling in for your lovely friend, Evelyn."

His jaw clenched. "What? What's wrong with her?"

Rose smirked. "Well that's a question that could take all day to answer, but in the context of your question, your snogging buddy just came down with mono. Mind you, keep your distance."

"Jealous, Weasley?"

"That she doesn't have to spend all night patrolling with _you_? Yes, terribly."

"You know you're thrilled about this – you and me alone."

"Merlin, Malfoy, don't make me vomit."

They walked in silence, Scorpius scuffing his shoe against the wall every so often. The quiet, though unsurprising, was still more pleasant than Evelyn's brainless chatter.

"What did you get on the potions essay?"

Scorpius froze, hearing her voice. He turned, eyebrows raised.

"Excuse me, I thought I just heard you address me?"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Don't be obnoxious. Just answer the question."

"Why, Weasley? I'm sure I got better than you."

"Fine. Don't tell me."

Silence again. Scorpius watched her bulky bag hit her legs over and over again, zoning out. She adjusted it, startling him, and he glanced away again.

Five minutes down, one hundred and fifteen to go.

"Your mummy would have loved to see that."

They froze, hearing Filch's voice. Glancing at each other, they silently agreed to investigate. They turned the corner, and Scorpius had to hold in a snicker. There was the Hogwarts caretaker, sitting in an empty room … well, empty except his cat, Miss Norris, descendant of Mrs. Norris. She purred on the table beside him.

"No kiddies out tonight," Filch continued in a sing song voice. "Just you and me. There's a pretty girl."

Rose stepped back sharply, almost colliding with him, and he could see that she was narrowly avoiding, as he was, an outburst of laughter that would give them away. Silently shaking, they moved away.

Filch's footsteps were suddenly moving closer …

Rose's panicked eyes mirrored Scorpius's. Thinking quickly, he grabbed her hand and yanked her into a nearby broom cupboard.

"Muffliato," he muttered, just in time for both of them to collapse into fits of mirth.

"Just Filch – "

"Miss Norris – "

"He loves her!"

They could still hear Filch cheerily talking away. His footsteps were fading, Scorpius was standing straighter, ready to leave the broom cupboard when …

"Is he coming _back_?"

Scorpius groaned. Indeed, the caretaker had decided to pace their corridor.

"What are we supposed to do now?"

Sighing, Rose slid to a seat, her back resting against the wall. "We wait."

Scorpius sat opposite of her, glancing at her for just a moment more than necessary. Blimey, she was attractive. He'd always known that, but here, with her hair tousled and thrown over one shoulder, tie undone and several buttons open at the nape of her neck, she was downright maddening.

"So," he said if only to break the course of his own thoughts. He was grateful that he'd never blushed easily as his voice cracked.

"So?" Rose looked a bit annoyed. "So we're stuck in a Broom closet together for the unforeseeable future? So none of the halls will be patrolled for the next hour and a half? So – "

"-Filch is in love with his cat."

Rose sniggered, and the sound was strangely satisfying. It made him want to hear it again.

"That _wa_srather priceless."

He didn't know what prompted him to continue speaking, but in the next instance,

"And I bombed the potions essay."

Rose looked startled. "What? Really?"

"Really."

Then she smiled.

"Remember two weeks ago when we competed to see who had the best potion and you 'barely won?'" she made air quotation marks.

"Yeah …?"

"You won by a landslide. My potion turned fuchsia."

"It was supposed to be –"

"Pale green. I know."

He stared at her for a long moment. "And Sluggy didn't even say anything? Merlin, he loves you."

"Afraid so."

"I sense some bribery going on."

"I've never been above it."

They were both grinning as though they were enjoying each other's company immensely … but that wasn't possible … was it?

There was rather awkward pause, and Rose pinkened pleasurably, chewing her lip.

_Oh Merlin. _

What was wrong with his brain today? He couldn't look away from her mouth. How many times had he scoffed at the boys his year who had described a similar loss of reason? … How many of their stories had also taken place in just such a setting as this?

Forcing himself to tear his gaze from that spot, his eyes landed instead on hers – piercing and startlingly blue.

"Erm … right. Crystallized pineapple."

She blinked. "What?"

"To bribe Sluggy?"

She smiled again. He could get used to that.

"Oh … yes, right. Works every time."

The silence that descended this time, at least to Scorpius, was comfortable. He felt hot, though, when Rose slid off both of her shoes, then rubbed her foot slowly down one leg.

_For the love of Merlin._

How in Godric's bleeding name had he never noticed how distracting she was?

"Malfoy? Can I ask you a question?"

He glanced up, nodding stiffly for her to continue.

"Remember that first day in third year? Wolfsbane Potion?"

"'Course I do. First time I ever went head to head with the infamous Rose Weasley."

"Right … and was there a reason that you hated me so much?"

He was taken aback.

"Er … I was a bit young to _hate_ anyone."

"But you did. You loathed me." Her words were confident. Her tone made him opt out of pretending she was wrong.

"You mocked me!"

"Only after you insulted me!"

"No … you offered to 'help' me in that patronising tone … as though you were my superior."

Rose's chuckle was simultaneously enchanting and utterly infuriating.

"Malfoy … I _was_ your superior. Still am, mind you."

His eyes flashed with the challenge.

"Then I don't suppose you'll mind proving that in Potions tomorrow?"

"The same way I've proved it every day since third year?"

"I'm not the one whose Alihotsy Draught turned the color of a pygmy puff!"

"I'm not the one who failed miserably our last potions essay!"

"Oh yes, if only I had some extra crystallized fruit to manipulate our poor old professor with!"

Rose was scrambling to her feet now, and he rapidly followed her example.

"Just because I choose to be kind doesn't mean I couldn't whip you regardless!"

"Kind! Ha! That's the silliest notion I've heard all day!"

"Merlin forbid, Scorpius Malfoy just called me silly! However shall I go on?"

Scorpius froze, mid-retort. He had never heard her use his first name before.

"Oh go on, Weasley, you know it's the best compliment you've received in months."

He congratulated himself on the smooth reply.

"Malfoy?"

"What?"

"Don't hurt yourself, but d'you reckon you could step back a bit? You're about to tread on my toes."

How had he not realized how close he'd moved to her?

"Erm … right."

He felt suddenly flustered and unsure of himself. Rose, with one last smirk his way, leaned over to scoop up her shoes, not helping matters as he was suddenly confronted with an easy view down her front.

"I reckon we'd better continue patrols now."

She swept from the cramped space like she owned it. Scorpius could not bring himself to be surprised that he hadn't noticed Filch's footsteps disappearing. All he could do was trail wordlessly behind her, thinking that Broom cupboards were truly peculiar places.


	6. of Love

Sixth Year

Rose didn't turn as someone fell into step beside her. She was not at a loss for who it might be – they walked the same route to Potions every day.

"Hello, Malfoy."

"Hey, Weasley."

She glanced over at him and smirked. "Looking forward to class today?"

"What, you ran out of dreary commentary about the weather?"

"I was just trying to begin a conversation!"

"With tedious small talk?"

"I didn't want to waste any intelligent energy on the likes of _you_."

"Oh is your intelligent energy so easily expended? And here I thought it just came naturally." They were crossing into the dungeons. "Merlin, Weasley, that foul little potion over there smells just like you!"

Rose glanced over to the cauldron he was gesturing to – a pink, frothy thing. She stepped a bit closer and was surprised. To her bemusement, it actually smelled strongly of him.

They moved to take their seats at their joined Potions table. They had been partners since mid-way through fifth year, much to the chagrin of everyone else in their class. Not only did they wildly dominate all competition, they spent much of class time bickering loudly. A close onlooker, though, would see that the tone had altered drastically since their spats in previous years – they were more likely, now, to burst out laughing than to tear each other's heads off.

"Good morning, class!"

They turned their attention to old Sluggy.

"Every year, as I'm sure you've heard from the older students, I have a 'my favorite potions' lesson!"

Scorpius snorted lightly, leaning in to whisper, "Oh yeah, it's all I've heard about for months! Did you hear what Sluggy's favorite potion was?"

Rose chuckled, but her brow creased as their professor asked them to identify each one.

"Well that one over there – the gold one – is Felix Felicis. It's liquid luck," Rose chimed in immediately, getting the easiest out of the way.

"Right you are Miss Weasley – that's the potion we'll be brewing today. Now, for the next one …" he hovered over the pink, frothy concoction, and both Rose and Scorpius leaned forward eagerly.

"This little potion is called ….?" He trailed off, obviously expecting one of them to know the answer. Frowns were the only response that greeted him. "Well, its name is Amortentia."

Rose felt as though she'd been struck by the Hogwarts Express. She chanced a look at Scorpius and was sure that his expression matched her own – any color he did have had vanished, and his eyes were wide.

"Can anyone tell me what that is?"

Both of their hands went up, if only out of instinct.

"Ah, yes. Better be … Mr. Malfoy."

"Erm … that's the strongest love potion ever made, sir," Scorpius began, and Rose knew she was not imagining the higher pitch to his voice.

"Right you are! And what does it smell like to you?"

The half of the class that had heard his earlier quip detailing _exactly_ what he smelled either sniggered or flushed for his sake.

"Er … well it smells a bit like the Ravenclaw common room … and pumpkin pasties …"

Rose's face was flaming while the students tittered on.

"Brilliant!" Slughorn beamed, and moved on to the next potion. Neither Rose or Scorpius moved a muscle, not wanting to speak or face each other. Rose could still smell waves of Scorpius emanating from the Amortentia. Or maybe it was coming from him, sitting so close … that had to be it.

"Miss Weasley?"

Rose blinked. "Erm … sorry Professor, what was that?"

"I had asked a question. Are you quite all right?"

She wasn't sure how to answer him. Was she all right? She did feel rather dizzy. "I feel a bit off, actually." Anything to get out of there – clear her head. Noting the mask of concern on Sluggy's face, she added, "No need to worry. I just need a bit of sleep is all."

She did her best to look frail and wan.

"Oh, naturally! Mr. Malfoy, will you escort –"

"No!"

Malfoy looked relieved to hear her interject, obviously as confused and embarrassed by this bizarre turn of events as she was. Slughorn almost looked hurt.

"Thank you, Professor, but I'm fine to get there myself!"

Forgetting that she never missed lesson s and that she was making a scene and that she could feel Scorpius Malfoy's stare blazing into her back the whole way out the door, she swept from the room without another word.

Once alone, she slumped against the wall. Rose was all right with the idea of being attracted to Scorpius. She had come to terms with that some time ago seeing as he did have the body of a god and she was a hot blooded, teenage girl. However, even she knew that amortentia was greater than shallow attraction or simple friendship. If she smelled Scorpius as prevalently as she did, she had to care about him far more deeply than she had previously admitted.

Did she? Did she ….?

The realisation hit her like a ton of bricks.


	7. of Them

Seventh Year

"Allergies ruin lives."

The Heads' door swung open. Apparently Rose hadn't changed the password in the few hours he'd been away as she was so prone to doing.

"Honey, I'm ho-o-ome!" he sing-songed, directing his words at her room.

Rose appeared in her doorway. "Merlin, Scorp, I need _good_ news right now."

Resisting the urge to smirk (because then she would win), he chose to ignore the jibe. "Oh Godric, what's got Rosie's knickers in a twist?"

She fell onto her designated armchair with a huff.

"Rosie's knickers are in a twist because her dear cousin Al just concussed himself at Quidditch practice."

Several thoughts flashed in his head, amusement not the least of them.

"Albus's gotten himself into worse scrapes than that. He'll be fine."

Rose rolled her eyes in that infuriating way that meant he was supposed to be able to read her mind. "He'll be fine, to be sure. However, he will _not_ be fine in time for the game this weekend."

Scorpius's eyes widened. "The game this weekend … against _Ravenclaw."_

"Well done, captain. Should anyone try and accuse you of not knowing your own game schedule, I'll be sure to correct them."

"Much obliged. But what does that mean for the game? Surely he's the only real seeker talent Gryffindor's got."

Rose shot him a blazing stare. "First of all, you're the enemy and foolish to think I'd divulge any of our secrets. Second of all, no, he is certainly not the only seeker talent in our house. We'd be a sorry lot if we couldn't replace a player with a decent fill-in."

"Oh come off it. No one in Gryffindor's half as good as Albus. And since when did you care so much about the fate of the team anyway? You've never shown any signs of being a Quidditch aficionado before."

"No one's half as good as Albus, true. But we have plenty still better than your seeker. And I'm a bigger Quidditch fan than you might think."

Scorpius scoffed loudly. "Dream on, Weasley. We had this win in the bag, anyway. But with your lead player out of commission? You don't stand a chance."

He didn't like the expression on her face. Mysterious smile still in place, she stood wordlessly and swept from the room.

"Scorpius-1, Rose-0," he called at her retreating back, but she did not turn around.

No matter. He didn't have any complaints about the view he now had of her wild head of hair swinging in time to the swaying of her hips.

That Friday, the weather could not have been more ideal. The sky was clear, blue and windless. The sun was shining, but the heat was not cumbersome. Scorpius felt all the confidence of a Quidditch captain facing off against a team that had lost their star player.

"All right, team. There's nothing to worry about today without their captain and seeker. And even if he had been playing, we've always been a superior team overall. Just play to each of the strengths we've talked about, don't let the sun impair your vision, and, if you mess up, shake. It. Off. Don't let it mess with your head."

Their return stares betrayed nothing of how much they were listening.

"All right, team. Let's get out there."

They filed to the pitch, Scorpius craning to see who the replacement seeker would be. Olive Thomas, gangly as she was, blocked his view from the rest of the team. She had obviously taken Al's head place as captain.

He strode over to shake her hand but, mid-march, he came to a sudden halt. Rose. Rose was in the Gryffindor team line up.

"Scorp!" someone hissed from behind him.

He startled back to reality, trying to play it cool as he finished the walk to face Olive.

By the crushing handshake she delivered, he sensed no insecurity about their abilities on her part.

Rose. Rose on the Quidditch field. He couldn't believe it, shooting the girl in question a bemused glance. She met it with a saucy wink.

Bloody woman.

"We've got this, team!" Scorpius shouted, and took his place in front of the Quidditch rings.

The competition was fierce. The Gryffindors were at their best, paying attention to every detail. The same could not be said for Scorpius. He was being very attentive to detail, yes, but hardly at all in relation to the game.

Rose bleeding Weasley was the most captivating creature he had ever laid eyes on. He now understood exactly what the mysterious look was about. Her skill on a broom was undeniable. Albus, admittedly, had more talent as a seeker. But her grace was unsurpassed. The moment she mounted her broom, tossing her long, braided hair over one shoulder, to now, as she circled the pitch in slow, gentle circles, Scorpius was completely bewitched. Her eyes – sharp, sparkling and blue – swept the sky easily. Her posture was confident but ever at the ready. The few curls that had come loose framed her face, fluttering every so often in the breeze. Her smile, though reserved, was relaxed and assured. She was truly –

"Gryffindor's Lily Potter scores against the apparently unprotected Ravenclaw goal post! Malfoy's looking confunded up there! What's the matter, cap'n?"

Scorpius blinked, sharply returning to the game. What in Merlin's name had he been thinking? Cursing himself, he directed his attention to the Gryffindor chasers. He had left a goal wide open. How blasted dense could he be? He would not lose focus again.

And then she would fly passed, hair rippling, freckles accentuated perfectly by her clear, perfect skin.

Scorpius let in two more quaffles.

It was almost a relief when Rose – previously indifferent, inexperienced Rose – caught the snitch. He didn't know how much more torture he could be subjected to without cracking altogether. He thought, after nearly two years of having much more than platonic feelings for her, that he could control himself around Rose Weasley. Apparently he was wrong.

He barely heard the shout of, "GRYFFINDOR WINS!" or the crowd's uproar. He didn't hear the comforting words murmured by his teammates or the pointed jabs directed by some of Gryffindor's team. Everything in the world was Rose, and he pushed his way through the crowd to get to her, never losing track of her fiery plait.

Finally, here she was, turning to face him, a smug grin on her face and an assuredly cutting remark on the tip of her tongue.

He never got to hear what it was.

Rose's lips were soft – so soft, and sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted. Neither of them were holding brooms anymore but, as she flung her arms around him, he could still feel the fluttering snitch's wings against his neck. His hands were clutched her to him and wonderfully – miraculously – she was allowing it.

He might even go so far as to say she was encouraging it.

Most enthusiastically.

Then, the Universe began to shift. At first it was almost imperceptible, but, after a few moments, Scorpius was quite sure of it. Everything had tilted just a few degrees, and now he understood the meaning of painting the world with a rosy glow. Things were warmer, lighter, happier and infinitely more beautiful.

Scorpius never wanted to stop kissing her. However, a distraction came in the form of her inability to keep a straight face. She broke free to let out a laugh she had obviously been holding in. The more she tried to temper it, though, the worse it got, until they both threw their heads back and laughed with abandon.

The crowd around them was mostly silent, partly tittering, partly laughing with them. But the crowd around them was really rather inconsequential at the moment.

Their arms didn't leave each other, but Rose pulled her hands forward to examine the snitch.

"I plan on keeping this," she said, leaning into Scorpius's chest.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. As a reminder of the day I squashed you in Quidditch and you kissed me for it."

Scorpius groaned, placing his forehead against hers. "You drive me absolutely barmy."

"Well, you have utterly no effect on me, so I suppose I'm still two steps ahead of you."

"No effect?"

"None to be heard of."

"Ah. I see." His lips found her jawline, beginning at her ear, trailing down to her chin. He felt her heart speed up, just as he'd planned. "Well that, my friend, is a pity." He pressed his lips to hers again, sucked lightly on them. "Because _you_ have affected me most thoroughly."

Her breath was labored, her eyes fluttering …

Scorpius had every reason to believe that he'd won.

Then, she pulled away. That didn't feel triumphant in the slightest.

"Maybe we could talk about this some other time? There's a victory party for Gryffindor today, and I'm afraid it's being held _right now_. I'm terribly sorry to hear about your affected state." She sauntered away.

Obviously Rose thought that he would chase her.

And, when he thought about it logically, what was stopping him?

Rose never made it to that victory party. She didn't mind in the slightest.


	8. of the Rest

Epilogue

"How long have we been using portkeys for the Quidditch World Cup?"

"Er … I'm not sure Miss Weasley."

"A long, bloody time!"

"Yes … yes of course."

Rose felt guilty to see how petrified she had made the intern.

"I'm sorry, Charlotte, I'm a bit frustrated is all."

"Yes, of course, it's not a problem."

Said intern would not meet her eye. Rose still felt a twinge of shame, but she had a million more things to worry about at the moment. She had walked into her office at 6:30 on the dot. It was now 10:00 and she had no less than thirty-four paper aeroplanes littering her desk.

Of course, a good portion was from Magical Accidents and Catastrophes – paranoid lot – and she was happy to address each of their concerns. However, when she received one –

_To a Miss Rose Weasley, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports,_

_What type of transportation would be preferred for the Cup? It is quite a large scale event and moving such a large mass of wizards and witches can be tricky. Get back to us with any ideas._

_-Department of Magical Transportation_

– she was fuming. She could read the patronising tone in every word. After a minor scuffle about whether or not it was under Rose's department's jurisdiction to deal with brooms when used in sporting events the previous year, there had been some tension between their two departments. Hence the awry anger directed towards poor Charlotte.

_Portkeys will do just as fine as they have for decades. Thank you. _

_-Department of Magical Games and Sports_

Onto more important and less petty matters, Rose set to work reading and answering the growing pile of notices. Time crept by and Rose, for the thousandth time since agreeing to this position, wondered why. Normally, she actually quite enjoyed her job, but with the Cup coming up, she'd been tempted to fake sick a couple of times.

Most every day.

Rose frowned as she came across a hideous, mauve colored aeroplane. Unfolding it, she slumped into her seat with a groan.

_Lunch. Today. No more of your excuses. You promised, Miss Weasley. _

_-The Delightfully Debonair, Scorpius Malfoy_

She better get that one out of the way – like ripping off a bandage.

_Delightfully Debonair, If you were in my office, you'd be able to see how jammed I am. If you care to say hello you can pop your head in, but a lunch out is not going to happen today. _

_-The Tremendously Sorry, Rose Weasley_

Once she had sent that reply on its way, she only had another hour to finish memo receiving and writing. After that, everything would go on hold for the series of meetings she had with the other department heads involved in the event, groundskeepers, John - her budget guy, and then back to memo writing. She would be lucky if she got food in at all.

_Not funny, Rose. We have plans. It's only polite to honour them._

This aeroplane smacked her right in the forehead, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. She was pretty sure Scorpius was just giving her a hard time.

_Sorry, Scorp. I won't be done here until later tonight._

She sent it off before pulling a mirror out of her desk drawer. She slapped on some make up, twisted her hair up into a quick knot, and hurried away to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She was almost there when another note smashed into her neck.

Merlin, he was persistent.

_Late lunch – after your meetings. Three?_

She rolled her eyes, pulled out a quill pen and scribbled,

_Quick hello at the most. Bye, walking inside now. _

"Hey, mum," Rose greeted Hermione with a wave, following her through the meeting door. Even though the older woman was technically under the Department of International Cooperation in the International Magical Office at Law, she was involved in quite a few departments because of her extensive knowledge on the subject. Today, especially, it was nice to see her mum's face.

Three more aeroplanes were buzzing behind Rose when she walked out, two of them from Scorpius. She ignored both. He knew what her day was like – it was actually fairly uncharacteristic of him to be so bothered by a change in lunch plans. Normally he was the epitome of understanding.

Still, she hadn't the time to worry about it. Briskly making her way back to her own department, she was already creating a mental check list of all the things that still needed to be done. She allotted time for only one more meeting before memo writing, but after the first meeting she now had to draw up a public announcement detailing all the rules of the cup and assign tent areas to those with advanced tickets, separating supporters of each team. She had to contact all of the salespeople requesting permits, make up some sort of dress standard, and hire an assistant. (As ordered by an anxious Hermione.)

By the time Rose was back to memo replying, four more of the awful mauve coloured ones were sitting on her desk. She opened the first.

_Don't stand me up, Rose. You'll break a bloke's heart._

Good Godric.

_Rosie Posie. I'll call you that for a month if you don't reply._

He better not.

_Rose petal. My Flower. Those too._

She stopped opening them.

Several monotonous hours later found a frazzled Rose, no shoes and an empty desk. She peered wearily at the clock sitting beside her and sighed. The last person to leave the office had been an hour before, and she was quite sure that she was alone.

_Slam!_

Rose had never been the overly paranoid sort. However, at the sound of a distant door slamming, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

_Who could possibly be here this late?_

She retrieved her wand hurriedly from the corner of her desk, stood and pressed herself against the inside of her door. Whoever was here must think they were alone in the office. For whatever reason, they were up to something that they didn't want anyone else to see.

Rose was just about to push open her door to go investigate when the mysterious visitor pounded fiercely on her door.

"Scorpius!"

Rose was about to demand what exactly he was doing there, but one look at him and she fell silent. He looked awful – hair mussed, shirt un-tucked, haggard expression … nothing like the cool, put together man she was used to seeing.

"Merlin … what happened to you?"

"I could ask the same thing. However, no longer interested in your shoddy replies or lack of, I am simply going to invite myself into your office."

He swept passed her wordlessly, dangling a satchel from his shoulder. She stood there, bemused and more than a bit concerned as he began to unload all of the items.

"We were going to meet for lunch, Rose."

With a flick of his wand, he moved all of the items on her desk to shelves behind it.

"Yes, but I was swamp – "

"Shh. I'm not finished. We were going to meet for lunch – yes I know you are busy, but you're always busy with something."

He pulled out a beautiful, antique candle and set it up in the middle of the desk.

"Then, when I resigned myself to waiting for you, I went home."

His hand came out of the bag again, this time with a bouquet of none other than her namesakes themselves.

"You didn't. I waited all night, Rose, and you didn't come home. And now, hours passed time you are _supposed_ to be home with me, salvaging some semblance of the plan we had originally agreed upon, I find you still here."

"I'm sorry, Scorp, but –"

He held up a firm hand. "No, no. I have waited _all day_ – longer, actually, if you're going to be technical about it, and I am going to say what I came here to say."

Next he pulled out a paper sack, pulling out pastries and desserts from her favorite local shop, laying them on dishes he pulled out just after.

"Please. Have a seat."

In the next instant, her chair and a small table in the corner had transfigured into extravagant dining chairs, seated picturesquely around the desk. She didn't argue, simply sat down, stunned into silence.

"Pastry?"

She shook her head.

"All right then. I'll just get to it."

Her jaw dropped. Scorpius Malfoy was kneeling in front of her, still looking slightly mental.

"Rose Weasley. You drive me absolutely barmy – I am mad for you. I am in love with you. Marry me, please."

Tears were welling in her eyes. _Tears_ of all the humiliating reactions she could have had. She was opening her mouth to either sing with joy or scream "Yes!" at the top of her lungs, but she was suddenly cut off.

"Bloody effing idiot!"

She didn't even have enough time to feel offended.

"I forgot the bleeding ring!"

And then she began to laugh. Rose Weasley giggled like a school girl and fell to her knees on the floor of her office, throwing her arms around the man she was absolutely, fanatically in love with.

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, ye – "

Scorpius never found out how long she could have gone on yes-sing. He held her face and kissed her like every girl deserves to be kissed.

Rose didn't think to look at the ring for hours.

Which was a good thing, because once she caught sight of it, she didn't stop ogling it for weeks.


End file.
